


epilogues for the end times

by gaywoodandbine



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Angst, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 17:48:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21676168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaywoodandbine/pseuds/gaywoodandbine
Summary: In the end, the world isn’t destroyed by a demonic invasion or a Downworld revolt. All of Edom’s armies stay exactly where they are. Instead, it’s the hubris and malice of a Nephilim soldier that halts life as they know it.It’s ironic.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	epilogues for the end times

**Author's Note:**

> This work is, as of this moment, incomplete. I don't know if or when I'll update it again. So keep that in mind before reading! I know WIPs are not for everyone, especially those with an indefinite end date and no posting schedule. <3
> 
> With that said, endless thanks to June. Without her writing dates and encouragement, I'd probably be bald by now from ripping out my hair and many hugs to all my writer friends for always being supportive in the face of my frustrated whining.

A cold gust sweeps in off the ocean. It feels as if it pierces straight through the leather of Alec’s jacket. It’s only just turned spring time, and while the snow is gone, the wind hasn’t quite got the memo yet.

He turns his back to it and huddles down deeper, popping the collar up to protect his neck from the chill. Crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the railing behind, he surveys the sprawling fields surrounding him. He’s satisfied with the decision to stay here. The old farmhouse is a good pick to bunk down: a vast sea at their backs and miles of open land in every other direction. The widow’s walk on the highest peak of the roof gives him an unobstructed view of the property. There’s only one way in or out: a lengthy driveway that disappears into the woods at the edge of the pasture. The forest is an option, but its uneven terrain with thick underbrush that slows forward progression to a crawl.

It’s as safe as they’re going to get without locking themselves inside a fortress, and those are in short supply. 

The quiet still gets to Alec sometimes. It’s been months since they left the city, months of silence where once the sounds of traffic and music and people living were a white noise to fall asleep to. But with the waves crashing against the shore, the quiet is a little less pronounced here. Laughter floats up from the house below. It might be Simon. Plates clink together, a cupboard slams shut, and if Alec focuses in a little tighter, he can smell food cooking. 

He reaches towards the bond, probing at Jace and finds a feeling of contentment aimed back at him. His brother is still roaming the perimeter, but he’s safe despite being out of sight. 

The door to the cupola swings open, and Alec looks away from his watch to find Magnus approaching with a soft smile on his face. Something warm and fluttery unfurls in his chest at the sight of him. Magnus's colors are a little muted, nowadays, a little grey, but he’s still as vibrant as ever. Alec is absurdly grateful that he chooses to stay. 

“Brooding up here against this backdrop is quite romantic. I half expect to see a ship anchored out past the rocks,” Magnus teases, coming to a stop just beside him.

Magnus doesn’t have a jacket on, arms wrapped around himself against the cold, and Alec shifts a half-step closer to block some of the wind from reaching him.

“I think our definitions of romance are wildly different,” Alec says, smiling through the words.

Magnus tilts his head, shaking his head after a half second of contemplation and says, “Mm, I wouldn’t say wildly. Isabelle sent me to collect you. Dinner’s ready.”

“Dinner” for the first few months out here had been whatever canned food they could scrounge up from abandoned homes and gas stations and relying on the nourishment rune when there wasn’t enough to go around. 

It took awhile for them to get far enough away from the populated areas to find game, but whether it's demons or animals, hunting is kind of the same. And they had four highly trained hunters in their ranks. Well. Three and a half. They weren’t starving for long. 

Getting back inside where it’s warm sounds better than getting food into his stomach, but someone has to keep watch for a little longer. Some reluctance must show on his face because Magnus reaches out to give a little tug on the hem off his jacket as he backs up a step, pulling Alec with him.

“Jace is on his way back. He radioed in to say the perimeter is clear, for now. Raphael and Simon will take over as soon as it gets dark out. I think we’ll be alright until then. As attractive as you are up here on your perch, you’ve been out here for hours.”

Alec already resigned himself a while ago to the fact that Magnus can get him to do just about anything, but this doesn’t really take a lot of persuading. He lets himself be tugged off the roof and out of the cold.

* * *

The kitchen is lit up with candles and a battery-powered lantern they rescued from the barn. When they first discovered the farm, Jace had found a couple cases of beer down in the basement. Tonight is as good a time as any to crack into them. They’re all warm and a little loose with full bellies and a couple bottles of cheap lager. 

It’s a good night.

Izzy laughs at something Simon says, leaning back in her chair before immediately sighing, expression turning exaggeratedly mournful as she says with a sigh that borders on wistful, “You know what I miss? I miss razors. My legs have never been this hairy. It's starting to pull when I get dressed.”

It’s not the first time they’ve gone around saying what they miss from when things were normal. Usually, it’s food, and it sets them all off on wild debates about the best places in New York, but sometimes, it’s this: everyday basic things like shampoo and clean sheets, electricity. 

Alec scrubs a hand over his face, thinking of his en suite bathroom at the Institute not without a touch of longing, “Mm, yeah, I could go for a shave, right now.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Magnus answers with a sly tone, reaching out to scratch his fingers through Alec’s beard, “I quite like this whole mountain man look you’ve got going. Makes you seem rather roguish.”

Alec huffs a laugh, cheeks heating a little in response. Magnus’s flirting still throws him off sometimes, especially in front of the rest of them. They were just starting to be -- _something_ \-- when the shit hit the fan, and since then, it’s been day after day of trying to survive and keep moving. The last thing on anyone’s mind should be romance. 

It hasn’t really stopped Alec, though. 

Magnus winks at him just as Jace’s voice cuts in, “You know what I’m gonna miss? Toilet paper. Because there’s only three rolls left in this house, and only two of us that don’t need it.”

Izzy groans, “Jace, c’mon.”

“What?! I’m just saying. We all better start getting used to the reality of leaves because that is a thing that’s coming at us. And quickly.”

The entire kitchen breaks out into a heated discussion about leaves as a use for personal hygiene, Raphael noting in his typical dry tone that it’s a good thing it’s spring, now. 

Clary trips back a step with laughter, flailing an arm out to balance herself against the kitchen counter. Her elbow smacks into the stack of dirty plates, the whole pile sliding towards the edge and tipping off. Alec catches movement out of the corner of his eye, Magnus’s hand lifting up, the faintest hint of blue curling around his fingers in the tell-tale sign of a spell. His brain spares a bare second to appreciate how beautiful it is to see it again before he reaches out, faster than he’s ever moved in his life and grabs hold of Magnus’s wrist, effectively stilling him before he can cast.

The plates hit the floor with a crash, shattering into pieces.

Magnus looks startled, more by what Alec did than the sound of the breaking dishes, and then his eyes widen in realization at what he’d almost done. He stares down at Alec’s hand still wrapped around his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus’s face crumbles a bit, “I wasn’t thinking. God, that was stupid.”

Alec shakes his head, squeezing Magnus’s wrist slightly, gentle pressure before letting go, “It’s alright.”

They all let their guard down a little too far tonight. Clary drops to her knees, starting to pick up the larger pieces of the broken plates.

“It was my fault, Magnus. I should have been paying attention.”

Simon moves in to help her clean it up, and Jace starts to collect the bottles, even those that aren’t completely empty.

“Probably best if we cut ourselves off, now.”

Alec nods. They all know the necessity of allowing themselves a break every so often. Surviving isn’t living. But it can’t come at the cost of their safety. 

Raphael clears his throat, peering out through the window over the sink.

“I’m heading out. Lewis, meet me outside when you’re done.”

He stops to give Izzy a kiss on the cheek and a murmured, “Thank you for dinner.”

Animal blood can’t ever be the same as what they’re used to, no matter how much Izzy dresses it up, but Raphael never fails to say thank you.

Magnus has his hand cradled against his chest like he’s wounded, expression flat, and Alec cups a hand around his elbow, tugging him around to look at him.

“Come on, help me lock down for the night.”

They methodically go through every room, ensuring windows and doors are secure, that what protections Magnus could give them without the use of his powers are still in place. 

Normally, Magnus is a fountain of conversation, even when Alec doesn’t say much in return. Now, he’s as quiet as Alec usually is, going through the motions of safety checks in silence. 

Alec stops, catching Magnus’s arm before he can drift off into the next room and pulls him up short.

“Magnus. It’s okay.”

Magnus won’t look at him, eyes fixed on the old recliner in the corner of the living room, and Alec wants to shake him a little bit. 

“Magnus.”

It takes another second, but he finally gets a reaction, Magnus shaking his head before he says, “It’s not okay.”

“You stopped before you did anything. Nothing happened.”

Magnus’s eyes snap up to him, and his voice goes hard, “It’s not about the dishes, Alexander.”

“Then what is it?”

Magnus shakes his head again, sighing, “You don’t understand what it’s like. You might have one stele to go around between the four of you, but you don’t have to cut yourself off from your abilities.”

Magnus lifts his hand, and his fingers trail down Alec’s neck, touching the black of his deflect rune.

“I feel less than useless. All the time. All this power, and I can’t do a damn thing with it, anymore. It’s been nearly six months of this. It hurts.”

Alec licks his lips, swallowing against the ache in his throat at the pained confession. It’s a brutal reminder that Magnus doesn’t have to be here. He could have left them all in New York, disappeared to the safety of the Spiral Labyrinth or the Seelie Realm or anywhere. He stayed for them. He continues to stay for them.

“Magnus… no one would -- I wouldn’t blame you if you -- you could still leave.”

It hurts to say, an ache at the thought of never seeing Magnus again, but if it would help… he’d be safer, happier elsewhere.

Magnus stares at him with a look like he’s been slapped, and a moment later, he’s shaking Alec’s hand off of his arm. 

“That is not what I’m trying to get at, Alec. I’m not leaving because things are a little hard. God save me from well-meaning stupid Nephilim.”

It’s not quite the reaction Alec anticipated, but Magnus always seems to keep him on his toes. He frowns, allowing his hand to finally drop back to his side.

“And that’s not what I was trying to insinuate, so maybe give me a little credit.”

Magnus lets out a sharp breath, shoulders tense for another second before he lets them relax, “I know. I’m sorry.”

Magnus turns his body towards Alec again, the warmth of him close enough for Alec to reach out towards. He doesn't. 

“Let’s just finish up here, alright? I’m exhausted and so are you,” Magnus says, a tight smile on his face. He pats Alec’s chest and moves away into the next room. 

Alec sighs and follows after.

* * *

They have this routine down to ten minutes. Runes are refreshed. The boarded up windows are checked for weaknesses. Locked doors are reinforced for the night. 

There are warding charms that Magnus created when they first arrived. Magic but passive magic, he’d assured them, charms that even mundanes could create if they had the knowledge and even a touch of the Sight. It had nothing to do with his own powers, though the blood in his veins might give it a little extra oomph. 

Magnus ensures that none of them have broken before they finally retire.

No one sleeps on the top floor. When they’d first escaped New York, they’d found refuge in a small family home on the outskirts of Newark, spreading out with the idea of keeping a better watch on all sides of the building.

Clary nearly died.

They don’t talk about it.

Now, they all sleep on the first floor near the exits. It feels less like they’re trapped that way. 

Alec manages to find rest for a couple hours before dreams send him clawing for consciousness. Magnus sleeps on beside him. Alec doesn’t bother resisting the urge to touch, brushing hair off his forehead and sweeping a hand up Magnus’s arm as he draws the thin blanket up over him. 

He gets up when it’s clear he’s not going to be able to sleep again, heading upstairs and further until he’s pushing the door to the cupola open. Raphael stands at the edge of the widow’s walk, arms crossed as he surveys the fields passed the barn. 

“Lightwood.”

“Raphael.”

The ocean has calmed somewhat, the waves no longer lashing angrily at the shoreline, and Alec can easily hear Raphael’s soft-spoken voice over the ebbing tide.

Alec steps up beside him, scanning the far off treeline in the silver light of the moon. He’s sure his vision is nowhere near as helpful, right now, but he doesn’t feel like returning downstairs just to find their stele to activate a few runes. 

They stand in silence for a long moment. Alec doesn’t ask for an update. Raphael isn’t one of his soldiers, and he’d speak up if anything was amiss on his watch. 

“This isn’t easy for Magnus, you know.”

Alec looks over sharply. If people could stop initiating conversations Alec isn’t expecting, he’d appreciate it. 

“... I know. I never said it was. None of this is easy for any of us.”

“None of us has magic like he does either.”

Ah. So this is what it’s about. 

Alec sighs, clasping his wrist tightly behind his back, “No one is angry with him, least of all me.”

“But he is.”

Raphael turns, eyeing him quietly for a second, and then says, “When Valentine was at his peak back in the 80s. The first time around.” There’s a wry sort of smile that Raphael gives him, though Alec doesn’t think it’s really meant for him, “When they were killing us in mass raids and everyone was trying desperately to get out of New York, out of the cities, Magnus stayed behind.”

Alec goes very still.

“He stayed because he’s an exceptionally stupid warlock and a good person. There are a lot of people still alive because of him, because he used every bit of power he had to help them escape.”

It feels a little like Alec’s heart has dropped into his stomach, teeth aching in his jaw from how tense he is.

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

“Uh – hey, sorry,” Simon’s voice cuts in before Alec can get another word out.

A glance over his shoulder sees Simon hesitating in the door of the cupola, eyes darting between the two of them. Raphael nods, and Simon straightens a bit, coming closer.

“Not to interrupt the very serious conversation the two of you are having about Magnus while he’s sleeping, but we’ve got a problem?”

Alec swallows passed the mild annoyance at having been overheard, a stab of fear that’s made a familiar home in his chest over the past months rising at the words.

“Problem? What problem?”

Instead of saying anything further, uncharacteristic of Simon’s usual hyper-verbal tendencies, Simon darts forward in a blur of vampiric speed to come to a halt beside them and points out towards the edge of the western field.

Raphael sees them before Alec does, muttering a curse just as Alec’s eyes focus enough in the darkness to see the movement through the low grass. There’s a lot of them, more than Alec can count. A herd, maybe, passing through, but he can’t help but think of the faint wisps of blue around Magnus’s fingers. Barely there but maybe just enough. 

Inside the house, there’s a sudden crack like the sound of lightning. 

One of the warding charms, calling out a warning in its breaking. 

Raphael’s hand fists in the back of Alec’s jacket, yanking him back roughly, “Let’s go, Lightwood.”

Alec shakes his head, reaching for his bow and quiver. He ran out of adamas arrows two months ago, but his own are just as effective so long as he aims for the right spot, “No. I can see better from up here.”

Raphael hesitates, even as Simon is making increasingly distressed hand motions towards the door, “We get overwhelmed, and you’ll have nowhere to go.”

Alec draws an arrow, nocks it and finds a target, “Then I guess we better not let that happen.”

One breath in, out. The arrow flies.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on [tumblr](http://gaywoodandbine.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/gaywoodandbine) if you'd like to come find me


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